I have been cast in a show.

Applause break.

Since I know that getting cast is the main objective of every aspiring actor, I am going to walk you through this step very carefully. Every little detail might be crucial to replicating my success, so I don’t want to glaze over anything. In fact, I’m going to break down this post into fifty micro-steps that, if followed exactly, should act as a foolproof method for getting cast in any show.

You ready?

Here it goes…

 A Foolproof Method for Getting Cast in Any Show:

1. Find an audition notice for a production of Twelfth Night on the Chicago Artists Resource website on July 24^th, 2014.
2. Email the production company to reserve an audition time.
3. Receive an email confirming your audition time and informing you that instead of preparing a monologue, you must prepare one of three Shakespearean sonnets and perform it as if you were reciting the poem for a lover.
4. Read the email and then forget about it for a week.
5. Check the email again the night before the audition, panic, print out the sonnets, and then go to sleep.
6. Wake up the next morning and pick out the one sonnet that you understand (mostly).
7. Try to memorize it on the bus.
8. Fail.
9. Arrive at the theatre way too early. Instead of going in, walk around the block several times before sitting down on a park bench next to a playground.
10. Recite the sonnet aloud ten to fifteen times, cursing whenever you screw up.
11. Ignore the worried looks you are receiving from the parents of the nearby children playing on the playground.
12. Start sweating profusely.
13. Go into the theatre.
14. No, not that theatre. There’s a show going on in there and the house manager is not pleased with you.
15. Oops.
16. Go to one of the theatres upstairs.
17. Ask the lady at the bar upstairs about where you might find the Twelfth Night auditions.
18. She doesn’t know.
19. Sit on a couch and wait.
20. Oh, here’s someone. The stage manager?
21. Yes, the stage manager. You’re still too early, and you’re the first audition of the day, so the director has not yet arrived.
22. Wait some more.
23. Here’s the director. “You’re early,” he remarks. You confirm that this is the case. “Well, I guess we’ve got some extra time. Are you ready to go now?” You say yes.
24. WHAT? Why did you say that? You’re not ready! You’re not ready at all! How does the sonnet go? “Not from the stars does my judgment…” No, wait, “do I my judgment… pick?” No, “do I pick my judgment,” right? No?
25. Walk into a small theatre off a hallway behind the bar.
26. “No, it’s pronounced ‘Klane.’ Like ‘main.’ It’s German.”
27. Recite the sonnet. Get, like, a third of the lines mixed up.
28. Apologize.
29. Have the assistant director tell you to stop apologizing.
30. Try to do the sonnet again, but this time, make it even worse.
31. Let the director give you some advice.
32. Don’t listen to the advice. Just do it again, but this time glancing down at the sheet that you printed out last night and crumpled up in your pocket.
33. The director and the assistant director are trying to help you, but this is going nowhere fast.
34. Do it one last time, but have the director cut you off halfway through and tell you that he’s seen enough.
35. Walk out of the theatre, dejected.
36. Throw your crumpled sonnet sheet at a garbage can outside.
37. Miss.
38. Are going to just litter like that? Pick it up, you monster.
39. Place it in the garbage can like an adult.
40. Receive an email later that day from the production company saying that, “We really enjoyed your work. Unfortunately, we will not need you for callbacks.”
41. Mope around for a week.
42. Receive another email from the Twelfth Night director. He apologizes for the wording of the previous email, saying that, although he did not need you at callbacks, he would still like to offer you the role of Captain/Officer/Priest and Sir Andrew Aguecheek understudy.
43. Do a little dance.
44. Wait for a couple of hours. You don’t want to seem desperate.
45. Ah, who are you kidding? Email the man, for God’s sake!
46. You’ve been cast!
47. You’ve really been cast!
48. HURRAY!
49. HUUUURRRRRAAAAYYYYYYYYY!
50. I really want this to be 50 steps, so, like, get a milkshake or something. Doesn’t a milkshake sound good? Milkshake. Yum.

So there you go. How to get cast. Right there, in plain, simple English. Pretty great, huh?

Don’t worry, though, this blog is far from over.

Far, far from over…

And if you want to see me in a show, I’ll be in a production of Twelfth Night with Leftend Productions that has performances every Friday, Saturday, and Sunday in October at the Den Theatre in Wicker Park. To see me as Sir Andrew, aim for the weekend of 10^th-12^th. I’ll provide more information when tickets go on sale. In the meantime, feel free to donate to Leftend’s Indiegogo campaign so we can have a set, because sets are good and THEATRE ISN’T FREE, PEOPLE!